


Candy Corn

by Alvinola



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Belly Kink, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sickfic, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:29:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27151138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alvinola/pseuds/Alvinola
Summary: Dean can't resist candy corn.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Comments: 2
Kudos: 83





	Candy Corn

**Author's Note:**

> I found this in one of my folders and thought I'd post it!

Rain is pelting the Impala’s windshield as Dean drives the car down a curvy road somewhere near Denver, Colorado. They’ve hit the road six hours ago, after finishing a case in Nebraska. While getting rid of a vengeful spirit that haunted a museum, the brothers got into a bit of trouble with the local police. Therefore, as soon as the ghost was taken care of, they packed up their stuff and got the hell out of dodge.

Glancing to his right, Dean gives his sleeping brother a quick onceover. The left side of Sam’s face is swollen and a large bruise has started to grow on his cheekbone. Curling his fingers more tightly around the steering wheel, Dean curses the violent spirit all over again.

Teeth gritted, Dean reaches into the bag that’s sitting in his lap and scoops up a handful of candy corn. Throwing them in his mouth, he angrily chews them up. It’s past ten 10 PM already and he had meant to stop for dinner hours ago. However, as soon as Sam had nodded off, he knew that getting rest was more important than food. To tie him over, Dean had bought a family sized bag of candy corn at a gas station a few towns back.

With nothing to look at but trees, mountains and heavy fog, Dean continues to shovel candy in his mouth as he steers the Impala along the road.

When his fingers brush the bottom of the bag and he realizes that he’s eaten every single piece already, his mood sours even further. Crumbling up the wrapper, he throws it over his shoulder with an annoyed huff.

It’s ten minutes later when the first wave of nausea rolls through him. Bringing a fist up to his mouth, he burps softly and grimaces at the overly sweet taste that accompanies it. He suddenly becomes aware of the ache in his middle and realizes that eating an entire pound of candy corn by himself probably wasn’t the smartest idea.

For the next couple of miles, Dean tries to just ignore his upset stomach. He cracks the window open a tiny bit to let some fresh air in and shifts in his seat to find a more comfortable position.

At first, it seems to work. He takes some deep breaths, kneads his aching stomach and tries not to think about the sugary lump that sits like a rock in his gut.

When he breaks out in a cold sweat five minutes later, he knows that he’s not going to win his battle against his gurgling belly. Swallowing thickly, he drives the Impala to the side of the road and turns off the engine. It’s still pouring and the last thing he wants is to go outside, but it’s either that or puke all over the upholstery.

His hand is already on the doorhandle, when Sam stirs in the seat next to him. Tensing, Dean looks over his shoulder.

Sam slowly blinks his eyes open. Still half-asleep, he pushes himself more upright with a yawn. “Are we there yet? Wherever _there_ is…?” he adds and rubs his eyes.

Jensen suppresses a grimace when his stomach roils and gives his brother a shaky smile. “Nah, not yet. Gotta take a leak,” he lies and quickly climbs out of the car before Sam can say anything else.

He manages to stumble a few steps away before he doubles over and vomits onto the gravel. Rain is peppering his back, but he doesn’t care. His body lurches with each heave and just as his legs are about to buckle, a pair of strong arms wrap around his chest from behind. “Whoa, easy,” he hears Sam’s familiar voice over the pouring rain.

After what feels like an eternity, Dean finally feels like he’s ready to stand up. Wiping his mouth with his sleeve, he slowly straightens up. He avoids looking at the puddle of puke, but out of the corner of his eye, he can see that it’s bright orange. He winces and quickly turns away.

“You good?” Sam asked, blinking rain out of his eyes. His hair is plastered to his head and they’re both soaked.

Dean shivers. “You shouldn’t have come out here.”

Rolling his eyes, Sam grabs Dean’s arm and pulls him back to the parked Impala. “Let’s have this conversation _in_ the car instead of out in the pouring rain.”

At first, Dean doesn’t even notice that his brother is walking him to the passenger side of the car. When he does, however, he digs in his heels. “Hold on, I’m still driving.”

“Yeah, I don’t think so,” Sam replies and gives him another nudge.

Still too nauseous to argue, Dean climbs in and takes the seat Sam had occupied before. The leather still warm and he slumps against the closed door as soon as it’s slammed shut. His belly—even though it’s mostly empty now—let’s out a high-pitched whine and Dean winces. All that sugar is definitely messing with his system.

As soon as Sam has slipped into the Impala as well, he turns to look at Dean with concern on his face. “You want some water?”

Dean nods. He’d do everything to get rid of the nasty taste in his mouth.

With a nod, Sam twists around and begins to dig through everything they’ve got in the backseat of the car. Dean closes his eyes and slowly rubs his belly with one hand.

“You gotta be kidding me…” Sam sighs suddenly and Dean cracks one eye open. He flinches when his brother is dangling the empty candy corn bag in front of him. “Did you eat that _entire thing_?!”

Rubbing the back of his neck, Dean looks away. “Maybe…”

Sam throws up his arms. “You’re such an idiot!”

Despite being annoyed, Sam keeps looking for the water and, once he finds an unopened bottle, hands it over to Dean. He also throws a blanket in his lap and motions for him to get comfortable.

“Sip the water and get some rest,” he says before he pulls back onto the road. “And no more candy for you!”

Just thinking about sugar makes Dean feel ill and he belches quietly. “Promise,” he croaks miserably and closes his eyes.

He’s already half-asleep when he feels Sam gently run his fingers through his hair with his free hand. Smiling, Dean sinks into deeper sleep.


End file.
